


Of Claws and Steel

by ashkazora



Series: Defenders of Terra [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Cyberpunk, Dubious Science, Gen, Inspired by Art, S1 Dynamics, Science Fiction, dangerous driving, do not attempt at home kiddos, found family? nah more like forced family, leakira - Freeform, leakira aesthetic mixed with modern Sci-Fi secthetic, mecha suits, particularly s1 klance dynamics, super sentai cat armour au, too many furry jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23511088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashkazora/pseuds/ashkazora
Summary: In the distant future in the city of Terra, danger lurks beyond the neon lights and looming skyscrapers.While looking for an unusual energy signature, Lance and his two friends tumble across his former rival and cyborg brother, and uncovers a semi-sentient weapon that may change their lives forever.-In which Lance steals a weapon and accidentally becomes a mecha-furry.
Relationships: Hunk & Keith & Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt & Shiro, Keith & Lance (Voltron)
Series: Defenders of Terra [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1691764
Comments: 9
Kudos: 13





	Of Claws and Steel

**Author's Note:**

> EIGHT MONTHS. It took me eight freaking months to write this. This fic was the first thing I ever attempted for this fandom, and tbh I'm so glad it's finally finished. Started in August last year but due to schooling commitments, other fics and writers block, this only got done now. 
> 
> I can't express how glad I am that I've finally finished this. Almost 14.5k words later. And I though my other fic, The Water Was Dark, had long chapters. You can really tell which parts were written recently, and which parts were written last year. But oh well. 
> 
> Before we start, I'd like to give the biggest shoutout to Ruitae, my beta for this fic. Without her, I wouldn't have gotten this finished. She helped me so much, so please check her out!
> 
> This fic is inspired by linipik's art [here!](https://linipik.tumblr.com/post/184785414709/the-blue-lion-of-voltron-here-it-is-lances)! Permission was gained to write this based off of her art, though I like to think that this has gained a path of its own.
> 
> Please remember that this is rated T for cursing, as some character swear a bit. 
> 
> Anyways, let's get on with the fic!

**T** erra wasn’t the city you’d end up in willingly.

It had equal parts malice and desire, with a certain ireful glamour hiding in every crevice or corner. Poverty-line slums balanced against lush suburban forests of white-bleached brick against dominating skyscrapers, and a vast array of privately owned desert to top it off. To any naked eye, the city seemed to clash with itself - civil war, of sorts. Yet the desperation laced haze that encompassed the poorest of the poor to even the most brilliantly wealthy of them all, could not mask the stench of opportunity laced within the concrete jungle of a city. For Terra was a corporate playground, a teenager’s dream of ambition. Every soul living within the city could attest - either outwardly or subconsciously - that they resided there with some sort of purpose.

For one of the most populous cities on Earth, culture was never divided. The harsh neon lights blended well with both the shabby corner stores and vast mansions, mingling the two without prejudice, proof that all had the chance to succeed. Every new face brought a history with them, and a future for them to carve. Without underestimating the materialistic allure of Terra, one could say it was truly a beautiful city.

Leandro _‘Lance’_ Serrano-McClain, however, fervently disagreed.

At the ripe old age of seventeen, not even the brilliant galaxies that rained down upon the city at night could prevent him from resenting the monopolised scrawl. No joys or cheap thrills distracted from both a saccharine and menacing environment. Though, to be fair, he wasn’t native to Terra. With darker skin and messy brown hair, it could not have been more obvious that he did not fit in with the usual blonde crowd that the corporate inner-city attracted. However, neither did his friends. 

Three young teenagers gathered in the murky roads of, in their opinion, a very dingy alleyway. Lance, who took full advantage of the dead-end faced in the alley, was busy scrawling some sort of blue creature on the worn brick wall. Battered old spray cans were littered at his feet, spilling out of an equally worn duffle bag. His eyes were narrowed in focus; his startlingly ocean-blue eyes almost glowing in the concealed reflection of the moon.

He poked out his lip in frustration, occasionally smearing paint residue over his freckle-spattered face. Similar drawings were thrown around the walls, all bearing a distinct, cartoonish style that his twin sister, Rachel Serrano-McClain, ever so loved to criticise. Too bad Lance didn’t share her talent of scarily good hyperrealistic portraits that landed her a scholarship in an overseas school. Though Lance wasn’t complaining. He liked his stylised sketches of bright stars and large planets; of space exploration, adventure, and lions.

“Are you having trouble with it?” called a voice near Lance. The speaker, unlike Lance’s slender, athletic body and broad shoulders, looked a lot like a teddy bear. Three inches taller and fifty kilograms heavier, the other boy looked exactly like a high school student on a wrestling team who had slightly gone to seed. And even more unlike Lance, who dressed himself in faded jeans, an old yet beloved hoodie and indistinct sneakers, was decked out in a large vest and new cargo pants. The boy sat a couple meters away, looking at a small, portable monitor while empty pizza boxes and a couple bottles of half-drunk beer littered around his feet. 

“Yeah,” admitted Lance, weariness and frustration lacing his voice, “I just can’t seem to think, y’know? It’s like I can’t seem to grasp what exactly I want to draw.” He huffed, tapping his foot impatiently as he stared up at the unfinished artwork.

“It looks great, buddy!” the boy smiled reassuringly at Lance, who grinned back.

“I mean, sure, if an indescribable blue smear looks great. To each their own, I guess,” piped a snarky, more feminine voice sitting beside the boy. “Hunk, you think everything is good.” Hunk looked affronted.

“That’s not true! Pidge, I-” he trailed off, realising that the girl, Pidge, wasn’t listening. Both him and Pidge were situated in front of a computer, scanning the lines of code that appeared on the monitor each second. Truth be told, Lance didn’t quite fully understand. Who could blame him, though? He wasn’t a tech genius that had skipped a year of school because they were so smart. 

The group was an mixed gaggle rag-tag trio, each with vivaciously differing personalities. At first, it was only Lance and Hunk, who had met each other on their first day of Garrison Preparatory. Hunk, too crippled by his anxiety to try and talk to anyone at the orientation, would hang by the edge of the new student crowd. Until Lance, the ever-so-extrovert approached him and made conversation. Four years later they were brothers in every way but blood. 

_‘An odd choice of friendship,’_ Rachel had commented the first time she met his friend. True, it _seemed_ Hunk’s extreme introverted and anxious personality was a stark contrast to Lance’s yet they meshed well together, bonding over a shared love of stars, flight, and watching Hunk’s latest engineering project explode. 

But others didn’t know the real Hunk like Lance knew him. Anxiety was merely a sheet that blanketed Hunk’s intense desire to know things about other people, his nosiness and extroverted traits that Lance both loved and hated depending on who Hunk decided to target. 

Almost unsurprisingly, the two spend a gratuitous amount of time together in the following months. Hunk, who’d become inducted into the McClain family, spent most of his free time either working on projects or hanging with Lance. In the year previous, Lance had found a new place to meet up other than the overcrowded Serrano-McClain household: a couple of mostly-abandoned blocks on the outskirts of the city. There, Lance could practice his drawing in peace without all of his screaming siblings and Hunk could work on his newest engineering projects. 

Then, like a moth to a flame, Pidge joined the picture.

Well, joined was a pretty strong word. Lance knew almost nothing about the feisty girl, only that she was basically a kid genius - certifiably, of course - who had skipped a year (or two) at the Garrison. She was in their physics class and had overheard them discussing how to sneak out that night without Hunk’s parents noticing. Lance swore he’d never said where they were headed but sure enough, they arrived in the alleyway to the sight of a five-foot-tall figure lurking in the shadows, munching away at a bunch of chips that Hunk had hidden. 

Needless to say, it was the start of a dynamic friendship. 

Pidge was slow to open up and truthfully, Lance still didn’t know much about her. But there was something nice about long rambling sessions, odd pixie cut hair, and glasses with no prescription, even if she was sometimes insensitive and half his height. 

He’d never admit it outright, but he was thankful to have company other than his immediate family. On most nights they’d meet up, complete whatever gruelling homework their physics teacher had assigned, share notes on whatever subjects they had in common, and just messed around. Then sometimes they’d all leave each other alone to do their own thing; Lance would spray paint his latest mural, Hunk tinkering with a scrap motor he probably found, and Pidge tapping away incessantly on her computer. He never knew what she was doing. At least Pidge didn’t look like she was doing anything illegal. 

Tonight was the same as always. Lance continued a large mural that scrawled most of the far brick wall, too entranced in his art to pay much attention to the others. Unlike other nights, the glasses-clad teenager’s almost triumphant voice cut through the silence. 

“Hey guys?” said Pidge, her normally monotonous voice rising with excitement. “Look at this.”

Lance dropped the blue spray paint in his hand and rushed over, him and Hunk clamouring around Pidge to look up at the monitor - excited at the break in the monotony. Graphs with lines and flashing binary code scrawled across the rapidly strobing screen. By all means, Lance didn't quite understand the logistics of the program, yet he could still decipher the abnormally high energy spikes present on the screen. 

"I've never seen an energy signature like this before," she murmured, her glasses reflecting the flashing numbers on the screen, "there's more potential power on here that every house on my street. Combined."

Lance stared at the screen, his lips moving wordlessly. A second passed, then tow; his eyes devouring the flashing numerals displayed on the monitor. Then-

"Forget your street, whatever this thing is? It looks powerful. And expensive. Energy doesn't come cheap, y'know."

Hunk leaned closer to the monitor, a thoughtful frown etched on his rounded face. "That can't be right. The only places that dump scraps near here are purely small business types. Mostly _Field_ use. Anything that powerful must be owned by a Corp, and you know how careful they are with their tech." Lance raised his eyebrows, slightly unimpressed on how Hunk referred to the poorer sides of Terra as ' _The Field_.' He considered it a bit... misleading. Maybe the land was once a field but now? Perhaps his friend considered the unkempt gardens or mangled lawns that plagued the poorer sides of Terra as such.

“Let me guess, you want it?” Hunk said. 

Pidge nodded but didn’t meet their eyes. “I know you guys just wanted to hang out but, please… do this for me. As friends?” Her voice was uncharacteristically soft and her bottom lip slightly shook. 

Lance placed his hand on her shoulder. This thing, whatever it was, obviously meant a lot to her. “Sure. I’ll come.”

A slight blush coloured the girl’s cheeks. She looked up to stare at him, and almost looked… surprised? As if she wasn’t expecting his response. “Really? No strings attached?”

“Well, yeah,” Lance said as if it were obvious. “You said it yourself, we’re friends, right? What about you, mate?” Lance turned to Hunk, who looked as anxious as ever, but he knew Hunk would never leave him. Despite his anxiety, Hunk would follow (mostly) wherever Lance went. It’s what made them loyal friends. Hunk grinned nervously.

“Fine. But if we get in trouble you guys are paying my bail!” Lance laughed and clapped his friend over his shoulder. Like he could afford to pay bail.

"Well, I certainly don't have anything on tomorrow. Where's it located?" Lance asked. The edges of his lips were upturned in his classic _'I'm-going-to-create-problems-on-purpose'_ grin. Pidge tapped furiously on her slightly dusty keyboard.

"Corner of Ignika avenue and Callisto street. Area code 4.1.14.7.5.18 according to my triangulations of the coordinates." She didn't need to add any more detail; all three knew where it was. 

Right on the edge of Terra, near _The Fields_. 

Lance grinned. "Who's up for a bit of breaking and entering?"

-

The trio arrived at an ominous chain-linked fence only an hour after they embarked. Lance has his tattered duffle bag slung over his back, and Pidge carried what looked to be a boxy leather briefcase that didn't look nearly big enough to carry all of her equipment. The journey had both Pidge and Hunk huffing and panting for breath, though both were in good spirits. All three enjoyed the luxuries of a good-natured late-night banter during their arduous trek; stopping halfway through after Lance challenged Hunk to an arm wrestle (the lanky teenager lost. Badly). The monotonous steps didn't seem nearly as bad or as long when you had two other people bickering non-stop.

It reminded Lance of home, really.

He was the youngest of five, and that wasn't counting the dozens of first and second cousins that practically lived at his house. Though Hunk was (unluckily, he would say) an only child, Lance's mother treated him as any other son. Hunk probably didn't need someone else providing dinner or letting him join the carpool too and from school, though he enjoyed spending time with the Serrano-McClain family as much as anyone could.

Now Pidge, on the other hand, Lance knew jack-shit about. God, that girl was secretive. But she could give a mean kick in the shins and knew how to execute a surprisingly powerful rugby tackle, so Lance suspected she had at least one sibling. An older one, definitely.

Looking back at the fence, Lance surveyed his surroundings. Ten-foot high reinforced steel fence. Chain-linked. No visible security personnel. Sporadically placed security cameras, class C. Dirt cheap and easily hackable by Pidge. Slight fog resulting in decreased visibility. Not a soul in sight.

"Perfect." Lance grinned.

Behind the fence was what seemed to be a heap of rusted machinery scraps and broken slates of metal, something perfectly normal for a junkyard.

"Hey, Pidgey! You sure we're in the right place?" Hunk said, apprehension gripping his slightly nervous voice. "This place is kinda... trash."

To be perfectly honest, Lance wholeheartedly agreed, It wasn't exactly the place to store an ultra-powerful... whatever the thing was, anyway. He glanced at Pidge who was looking at a small, beeping device gripped in her hands and sent a questioning gaze her way.

"I'm positive." Pidge reaffirmed. "All my scans show that the energy signature leads here."

With a sigh, Lance dropped his duffle bag and shifted through the mounds of spray paint canisters before gripping a pair of bolt cutters. He picked it up with an unusual amount of enthusiasm for someone who was about to break the law. A twinge of wrongness gnawed at Lance's belly. What if he was caught? Or if Hunk was? His mother would absolutely kill him - probably not metaphorically. His best friend was only here to support him; what if something went wrong?

But Lance liked the adventure, the rush of endorphins from doing something absolutely insane as this. And hey, he was also in need of some money, and this was as far as he'd go to get it. Despite his rampant jokes about dropping out of school and becoming a sugar baby, Lance sure as hell wasn't about to go through with it. He filed his fears aside and turned to his friends. 

"Pidge, can you disable the security cameras?"

Pidge's face morphed into an expression reminiscent of a chaotic gremlin. "One step ahead of you, dork. All cameras have been looped, and the past twenty-four hours of footage has been deleted."

Lance was mildly impressed at the speed of her work. She must've done that all while he was looking for the bolt cutters.

"Hunk? You all good?"

The muscular teenager patted one of his pockets which gave a metallic rattle. Lance broke out into a Cheshire-like smile and walked to the fence bolt cutters in hand, hoping his friends couldn't see that his grin wasn't entirely real. _This is an opportunity_ , Lance told himself, so why did something feel so... _off?_

Shaking his head, Lance rid himself of his apprehension. Without hesitation, the bolt cutters swiftly descended onto the links of metal.

_It's showtime._

-

Lance remembered when he was young, like, _really_ young, he and his older sister would religiously watch Scooby-Doo reruns on the dingy family television. Maybe that's why he thought back fondly to the Mystery Gang as he crept through the rows of trashed cars, old machinery, and rusted metal scrap. With Pidge in the front, her nose buried in the tracking device and intently listening to the beeping emitted from it, and the two boys in tow, all Lance could think about was his older sister Veronica. 

A bitter tang flooded his mouth as her face invaded his mind. 

"Are we there yet?" Lance chirped, his voice cutting through the heavy silence.

"For the hundredth time Lance, _no_." Pidge snapped. She opened her mouth again, probably to make some _'Lance is annoying/whiney/dumb'_ joke, but was cut off as the device in her hands began to beep more rapidly. 

"We're close!" Pidge said in a hushed tone that barely concealed how excited she was. Her paced quickened and despite her short legs, Lance found himself struggling to keep up. Running down a couple more rows, Pidge turned left and ran down some more. With each step, the interval between the device's beeps lessened and became more pronounced. Blood rushed in his ears as Pidge hurtled around a corner then came to a grinding halt.

The hair on Lance's neck stood up. At the other end of the junkyard, two ominous silhouettes stood out from the fog. Hunk's hand lurched into his pocket and after a split second, shining a flashlight at the shadows. 

_You have got to be shitting me._

There, in all his smug glory, stood Keith Kogane. 

Lance's brain went into overdrive. "Oh no, no, _no_." the lanky teen strut forwards, instantly forgetting about the energy signature. "What are _you_ doing here?!"

This couldn't get any worse. Of course, that mullet-haired jackass would show up right when Lance would get his hands on something cool. Keith blanched, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Now that Hunk's flashlight was focused on the other boy, Lance could make out more of Keith's features. He was still smaller (ha!) and his hair looked even more like a mullet than when they last saw each other.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Keith asked (in what Lance was certain was) mock confusion. Lance huffed and stamped his leg impatiently.

"Garrison High? We were in the same class for like, three years." A flash of understanding seemed to pass through Keith's face.

"Oh." he deadpanned "You're the cargo pilot."

Lance let out an indignant screech. How dare Kogane forget him! They were rivals!

"Fighter class. No thanks to you, _dropout_." He made a motion to advance but Hunk smartly had the foresight to grab onto his sleeve.

You see, when Lance moved to Terra from his sunny house in Cuba, he enrolled in Garrison Preparatory, a feeder school for the Galaxy Garrison University that was geared on training the next generation in engineering, technology and aviation for military development. It took a lot of effort, focus, and putting up with learning _another_ language, but Lance managed to snag a spot and would have made fighter class - the _top_ class and security to land a high paying job fresh out of school - if not for Keith’s little _rebellion_ and subsequent expulsion ensuring that _no one_ would get it ever again. 

And now Kogane was taking this opportunity away from him as well.

"We were here first! Find some other place to raid." Lance snapped at the boy. No way was someone like Keith going to steal this right from his grasp. Lance looked over his shoulder to see the tracking device clutched in Pidge's tiny hands. Now in low light and a solid six feet between them, Lance couldn't make out any words dotted in the screen; though he still could see a few numbers.

One. Four. Followed by two letters, both with distinct serifs. It looked like 'ft.' Feet. Lance glanced back at his 'rival.' The energy signature came from right in the middle of the two of them. Before he could say anything, Keith let out an exasperated yell.

"I don't even know what the hell you're talking about! I'm just here to-"

Kogane's rant was interrupted by a low, pained moan. Lance barely even realised it, but his blue eyes zeroed in on the figure that leaned reliantly on Keith's body. It was hard to tell from such a distance, yet the figure looked to be taller, male (the awful buzz cut gave it away), and with a weird metal _thing_ on one of his arms. A brief spark of recognition ignited in Lance's mind, fading as soon as the man slipped from Keith's grasp, collapsing onto the dusty ground. 

Keith released a stream of creative swear words - that would've undoubtedly earned a thorough mouth-washing in the Serrano-McClain household - as he dropped to his knees beside the figure. Pidge, Hunk, and Lance took that as a cue to run over.

"Is he okay?!"

"What happened to him?"

Both Hunk and Pidge said together yet somehow, Hunk's voice seemed shriller. Lance drew to a halt, surveying the situation as he puffed out the cool night air.

The man, or ' _Shiro'_ as Keith said, looked like he picked a fight with all of Lance's sisters at once. Cuts littered the flesh visible underneath a tattered black undercut; most of them scabbed or scarred over. The gnarliest cut was a smooth, deep slash over the bridge of his nose which still sluggishly leaked blood. Lance visibly winced when he spotted it. _That will definitely leave a scar._

Even worse, his hair was patchy and tangled, like a toddler made a go of cutting hair, deciding to give styling a try on a whim. However it wasn't the cuts or horrible hairstyle that Lance's eyes were attracted to, but rather a shock of white in the man's bangs, and the smooth, black-and-purple metal prosthetic in the place of his left arm.

With an incredible amount of quick thinking prompted by Keith's lack of an answer, Pidge hopped down next to him and placed two fingers on Shiro's neck.

"It's faint, but a pulse is there." To this statement, Keith let out an audible sigh of relief. "But this guy is injured, like, badly injured. We gotta get him to a hospital."

Keith leapt to his feet, his eyes blazing in defiance. _"No!_ We can't go anywhere!" he shouted. Pidge flinched back at the volume and intensity of his outburst. She opened her mouth, probably to make some barbed remark before Hunk stepped forwards with his palms outfaced in a passive motion.

"Hey dude, Keith, isn't it? We're not trying to hurt him, trust me. You just need to tell us what happened so we can help." he reasoned in what Lance recognised to be the exact tone Hunk used on _him_ when he was in one of his more stubborn moods.

Keith looked up at Hunk, then back at Shiro as if to weigh up his options. Apparently, he didn't like the thought of carrying the man on his own. 

"I don't know much myself. Shiro's been missing for months. I’ve been looking _everywhere_ until I finally found him here, unconscious." 

_A likely story,_ Lance wanted to scoff, but on further inspection, Keith did _not_ look healthy. His face was dotted with beads of sweat and his face seemed to be pulled in a stressed expression. The boy in front of him looked too old to be his former rival. On second thought, Lance actually felt a little bad for him, until Keith went and opened his mouth again.

"What are _you_ guys doing here, then?" Keith said in a suspicious, almost accusatory voice. And just like that, all of Lance's sympathy disappeared.

Both Hunk and Lance looked at Pidge to say something. She was the one to bring them here, so shouldn't she explain? The girl scowled, realising that she had to actually speak. "We picked up on a powerful energy signature in this area, so we came here to investi-"

Another low moan erupted from Shiro's lips, cutting Pidge off quite rudely. Slipping from Keith’s grasp, the larger man fell to the ground, legs collapsing from underneath him. 

At once, everyone - sans Lance - huddled around the collapsed figure. Lance saw Pidge clamp a flashlight between her teeth to inspect Shiro's multiple wounds with both hands. Hunk, on the other hand, spoke to Keith in an urgently hushed tone; the pale boy looking miserable and surly as ever. Yet strangely, no sounds from anyone reached Lance's ears. Despite standing only a few feet away from the group, he felt oddly... detached, as if he'd completely disassociated from reality. A cold sensation trickled its way from his neck down. Lance shivered

A sudden urge of _action_ wrapped its tendrils around his mind. It felt inviting, alluring in a way. Like something was challenging him; not dissimilar to the starved pulse you'd get right after eating chocolate. An invitation to go back and take more. A feeling inside of him _craved_ something. 

An entity was calling to him. Something powerful. Shiro could wait. This _thing_ had been waiting longer and wanted him to seek its pure intoxicating power...

"Lance, buddy? Where are you going?"

Hunk's confused call perched the veil between the weird daze Lance fell into and reality. Lance blinked, ridding himself of the fog that clouded the edge of his vision. 

_What the hell just happened?_

Lance looked around him and to his bewilderment, found himself kneeling next to a large column of scraps with his hand outstretched. Was something hidden there? With a shock of surprise, Lance realised where he was. Roughly fourteen feet away from their original positions.

_The energy signature!_

Without answering his best friend, Lance began to sift through the mounds of trashed monitors and spare electronic parts. The number of times rusted nails or corroded steel that scraped against his exposed skin was enough to probably give him tetanus - and like fifty other viruses - yet he still kept digging until he landed on a smooth object. Lance pulled it out of the heap, his heart racing.

In his hand was a polished, triangular sort of metal; white and grey with eye-catching blue-teal accents. Despite how heavy the apparatus was, it felt perfectly weighted in his hand, almost as if it was made exactly for him. 

With a glow of bright cerulean, the _thing_ grew heavy in Lance's hands. No longer was it some sort of fashioned item but rather a large, sleek rifle was sitting in its place.

"What the fu-"

Loud sirens blared around the group. Bright red lights suddenly turned on, illuminating the junkyard with a menacing glow. The teenagers froze, paralysed by the wailing of the alarms. Shiro stirred, yet refused to wake up. An endless cacophony of sound pierced Lance's eardrums and if he wasn't holding a heavy-ass gun, he'd be covering his ears like the rest of the group were.

"We need to leave, stat!" yelled Hunk, his voice slightly audible over the alarms. He was right. Lance could just _barely_ hear engines growing in the distance. They were caught.

"Follow me! My car's parked nearby!" Keith shouted. "You," he pointed at Hunk "take Shiro!" Hunk nodded dutifully and with great strength hauled the unresponsive body over his shoulder. Lance had no time to process the weapon - or really any of the batshit crazy events that kept on happening - before him and Pidge sprinted after Keith, with Hunk following behind as he lugged Shiro's limp body across the junkyard. Hell, he. barely realised that the rifle retracted into its original form. The _thing_ defied all known laws regarding the conservation of matter, somehow changing its mass.

"I thought you said that security was disabled!" Lance yelled at Pidge. They were still sprinting down the rows of junk, and Lance was starting to tire out. Pidge growled, but any energy she had to make a snappy retort went into keeping her short legs up with the older boys' long strides. 

"I did, I did!" She said, an expression of frustration painted on her face. "Whatever that _thing_ is must have activated the alarms!" Pidge sounded... worried, maybe? Lance knew she hated to be scared, to not know exactly what was going on at any given time. His big brother instincts took over and if they weren't running for their lives, he might have gone and hugged her. 

The quintet rounded a corner, crawled through a messily dug hole underneath the chain fence, and was greeted by the sight of the world's oldest car. On a regular day, Lance would have stopped to inspect it and take mental notes of its condition, make and model (it wasn't the weirdest hobby he had) but when you're most likely about to be arrested for trespassing, he decided it was best to leave judgement and ruthless mocking until later.

"Shotgun!" Lance yelled. With a couple strides of his incredibly long legs, he overtook Keith and ran to the other side of the car, yanked the door open and hopped inside. Keith followed in quick pursuit less than a second later, positioning himself firmly in the driver's seat. 

It took Pidge a little bit longer to hop in the back, and she was unceremoniously pushed up against the window by Shiro's limp body being shoved in the middle seat. Hunk sat down on the other side of the man and hurriedly shut the door. Turning on the ignition key, Keith slammed his foot down on the accelerator and the car went flying across the road.

"Uh dude, where are you taking us?" Lance asked as the car sped down the neon-illuminated streets. _Keith must have experience with getaways,_ he thought to himself. The ridiculously fast yet controlled pace the boy drove at frankly impressed Lance, who was only used to street-racing. What _didn't_ impress him, however, was Keith rounding a corner so tightly that all the passengers were flung to one side. Shiro groaned and started to stir. 

"My home." Keith tartly replied. The tone of his voice was clipped as if he didn't want to answer. "It's on the outskirts of Oariel. There's no law enforcement for miles there. We should be safe." 

Silence descended on the passengers of the car. The stench of petroleum managed to infiltrate the closed windows, making Hunk audibly gag. Like a roaring lion, the car's motor drowned out most of Lance's thoughts. Throughout the car, the silence was awkward, to say the least. It was like everyone wanted to say something or ask a question, but didn't know how too. Then, as if Keith's words prompted it, two sleek black cars rounded the corner, looking distinctly to be speeding after them. 

_Way to jinx it,_ Lance thought bitterly. 

"Fuck! We're being tailed!" Keith cursed angrily, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the steering wheel intently. "Everyone, hold on!"

In unison, three pairs of hands gripped whatever support they could. Lance held the metal object tightly between his thighs, making sure the thing wouldn't dislodge if the car was totalled. Judging by the way Keith stomped harder on the accelerator and drove more erratically, Lance wouldn't be surprised if it did. Every turn became sharper, every move was more rapid. "The tires must be ruined by now,” Lance muttered to himself as the piercing screech of skidding tired filled his ears. 

Keith yanked the steering wheel to the left as the car drifted, leaving behind dark skid marks on the jet-black tarmac. A large chunk of the bumper was ripped cleanly off as the car briefly caught onto a parked vehicle. 

Lance stared ahead, noticing how they were now driving on an open stretch of road. The two cars sounded dangerously close; he could hear the thrum of their engines behind him.

"I can't shake them, they're too fast," Keith growled out in frustration. The boy looked almost fearful. And angry. _Very angry_ , judging by the fire that blazed in his violet eyes.

“Oh _come on_ , Mullet, didn’t you get kicked out of the Garrison for burning out a plane? Go faster!” Lance screeched, the pressure of the situation getting to him; Hunk’s repeated muttering of _‘this is bad, this is very bad’_ grating on his nerves as well. Pidge fidgeted anxiously with her fingers.

One of the pursuers began ramming them, causing the car to jolt forwards. _This was it. Game over._ They were absolutely done for. If hotshot pilot Keith Kogane couldn't get them out of this mess, then they were officially royally screwed. Lance's hand gripped tightly onto the weapon between his thighs, not want-

Wait a minute. _The rifle._

Lance had an idea.

Gripping the metal handle, Lance closed his eyes in concentration. 

_Please work again. We could really use a gun right now._

Feeling incredibly childish and somewhat dumb for trying to pray in an intimate object, Lance let out a small gasp as a familiar frigid sensation trickled down his spine. Just like before, it felt as if his sisters had poured ice down the back of his shirt. The weapon, no - bayard - the strange name entering his mind like a drop of water from the faucet, grew heavy in his lap. _It worked!_

"Keep the car as straight as possible!" the lanky teen shouted at Keith. Lance unbuckled his seatbelt, rolled down the window and stuck half his torso out.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Keith shouted.

"Saving our asses, Mullet." Lance shot back. He could feel the energy, the power, thrumming beneath the teal accents of his rifle. It seemed to flow into his veins, rejuvenating all energy spent and keeping him more focused than any ADD meds ever could. 

_“He’s fucking crazy,”_ Pidge muttered. She didn’t sound too impressed at Lance’s antics.

With his head out the window, Lance had to act fast. There were two cars, both barely a dozen meters away. He had a small window of opportunity to act. As Lance closed one of his eyes to get a better look of the cars, a small grunt sounded from Shiro's lips as the man's eyes blinked open wearily. Lance's heart hammered loudly in his chest, but he didn't have time to take a breather or calm himself down; the cars were too close for comfort.

Muscles tightening, Lance locked onto the tires of the nearest one of the cars. Blood echoes through his ears, his heartbeat growing out the rev of the engine. Warmth from the powered-up blaster radiated throughout his sun-kissed skin. Finger resting on the trigger, Lance inhaled as a sudden rush of adrenaline pumped through his body and buzzing at his fingertips. 

Lance pulled the trigger. A bright blue beam of pure light erupted from the bayard. The car didn't stand a chance as the plasma beam went through its tire, ripping cleanly through the steel bottom. Swerving out of control, the driver struggled desperately for control of the damaged car, before crashing into a pole. 

Lance let out a whoop of excitement.

"Did you see that?!" He shouted to no one in particular.

"Dude, nice shot. I didn't know you could shoot a gun." Hunk beamed at his friend. 

Lance grinned back enthusiastically. "Thanks, buddy! They don't call me _‘The Sharpshooter’_ for nothing."

"No one calls you a sharpshooter at all, idiot," Pidge said. Though just like the ribbing he received at home, hints of teasing were present in her voice. Lance gave a mock scandalised gasp before briefly letting go of the bayard with one hand to give the girl a one-fingered salute. 

" _Oi_ , bonehead, we still have another car up our asses. Think you can shoot that down for us?" Keith said to Lance with a scowl. 

"Watch and learn, Mullet." Lance retorted. The tanned boy stuck only the gun out of the window and using only the side mirror as direction, let a blind flurry of shots attack the remaining car. All the shots grazed the car, but none damaged it badly enough.

"Pidge!" Lance shouted as he once again stuck his torso out of the window to get a clean shot, before realising the car was swerving to the other side of the road. The driver must've realised what side he was shooting from. 

"G-L-4-A-2-6. Terran design!"

Beautiful, genius Pidge didn't need any more prompting for what to do next. The girl was smart enough to recognise the sequence as a number plate. Lance barely finished his sentence before she whipped out her laptop and started rapidly typing. Her fingers moved in accelerated blurs. He could hear her tapping each key; it was cute, in a nerdy way. Even while they were being chased by random people in pursuit of god-knows-what and meeting up with his old rival-turned-dropout and his cyborg brother, Pidge still managed to bring her computer along for the ride.

Focusing back on the chase, Lance struggled to get a clean shot of the car. It couldn't be long until the straight road ended; he needed to take the car out _now_. Then, as if on cue, Keith took one hand off the wheel and latched onto the back of Lance's hoodie, dragging him out from the window. The car turned tightly around a corner a second later, and Lance was faced with another stretch of road. 

Murmuring a quick thanks to Keith, Lance stuck the bayard outside of the window again. Unlike last time, the street was too narrow for the other car to manoeuvre out of his line of fire. Once again, Lance used the side mirror to lay down rapid-fire.

" _What_... where am I?" A dazed voice sounded from the backseat. The voice was pleasantly masculine in a not-so-deep kind of way, like something out of an inspirational video. Lance's blue eyes widened as something inside of his mind clicked together. A spark of familiarity lit up his face.

"Dude! You're Takashi Shirogane!" Lance almost squealed in amazement. The wary, caged look in Shiro's eyes melted away into a state of confusion. "You got the highest score for the Garrison's long-range shooting competition. You're like my hero, man."

Shiro raised an eyebrow, uneasily grinning a moment later. It was clear from the man's confusion that he had no idea where he was, what was happening so why he had been shoved between two teenagers he didn't recognise; Shiro seemed to find familiarity in a lanky, freckle-spattered teenager doting on him. All he had to do was ignore the glowing rifle in the boy's tanned hands. Lance wasn’t lying at all about that. Shiro was, in fact, his hero, and had been for quite a while. Though a year ago the man almost totally dropped off the face of the earth, not to be seen again until, well, now. 

"Less talking, more shooting!" Keith shouted. 

Lance gave a brilliant smile, before looking back at his gun and pulling the trigger three times in quick succession. The first missed completely, while the second just barely missed the front tire. Luckily, the third one went straight through the windshield. He didn't look long enough to see if the driver was hit or not, but the thought of intentionally killing the driver filled Lance's mouth with a sharp taste of acid bile.

Lance remembered when he first saw Shirogane, years and years ago. His father had taken him to the Garrison compound for a mechanics and racing program when they accidentally went by the shooting range. Completely coincidentally, Shiro had been competing in the annual, campus-wide sharpshooting competition. Recalling the almost perfect bullseye the man got, Lance had been entranced by the display. From then on, he pestered his father - an avid and greatly skilled game hunter - to teach him how to shoot.

"Don't know if I aspired much, really. The shot was a complete fluke." Shiro softly chuckled. "Thought I was about to sneeze right before it happened. Honestly, I'm a pretty hopeless arms-man." 

If Shiro expected Lance to look dejected by his admission, the man was instantly proven wrong. Lance's grin didn't falter and instead, an even more impressed look shone on his face. To Lance, it was so _cool_ how his hero was carelessly good at everything. 

"Sorry for interrupting this little meet-and-greet," Keith said, not taking his eyes off the road "but we'll fill you in as soon as we stop at my house. They can't find us there."

Another expression of confusion washed over Shiro, yet he didn't question anything further. The rest of the car ride was sat in silence, with Keith driving incredibly recklessly through the roads of Terra; Lance looking back at the mirrors to check for any more pursuers; Pidge tapping away at her laptop; Hunk looking like he was trying to hold back his stomach, and Shiro fading in and out of awareness.

Dilapidated buildings and cheaply built houses swiftly faded into large expanses of desert scrub. Soon enough, Keith's rust-box of a car pulled up next to a wooden building resembling a shack more than a house. 

Everyone hopped out of the car as soon as Keith turned off the engine. Lance went to ask Pidge a question but stopped after hearing laboured retching from the other side of the car. Through the windows, he could see Hunk's body leaning over on the ground. 

"You all good, buddy?" Lance called out. Hunk weakly threw up a thumbs-up. 

Pidge snorted at the pathetic display "I can't believe he lasted this long." 

"Hey Lance, mind helping me out with Shiro?" Keith said rather gruffly, pointing to Shiro's prone form lying in the back seat. "I'd ask what's-his-name, but..." 

Keith trailed off. Lance winced internally as he heard another bout of retches slicing through the otherwise-silent desert night. 

"Your fault for driving like a blind man." The two teenagers hauled Shiro out of the car, lifting him from under his arms. 

"I saved us! Like you could do better." Keith retorted.

"Watch me, Mullet."

" _Again_ , it's not a mullet!"

"Can you guys shut it? Your conversation is making me lose brain cells." Walking from behind Lance, Pidge snapped at the two. Both of the boys grumbled under their breaths (somehow muttering the same profanities in different languages), before hauling Shiro's body into the shack.

Lance stopped inside the doorway and stared. 

If there was one sentence to describe Keith's dwellings, it would be _a huge fucking mess._ Clothes were haphazardly shoved in a corner and the bed looked like it hadn't been made in days. Weirdly, the back wall was covered in newspaper articles, notes, and red string. Assorted photos of Shiro and an older dude that wore the exact same mullet as Keith littered a dusty nightstand next to the bed. Before he could comment on how appalling Keith's cleaning habits were, the pale boy gave him the scariest stare Lance had ever seen.

"I know what you're thinking. _Don't."_

Lance had enough dignity to feel a little bit guilty. He and Keith shuffled over to the bed, before unceremoniously dropping Shiro on the mattress. Pidge and a very tired-looking Hunk walked inside only a few seconds later.

"So, uh... nice place?" Hunk grinned uneasily at Keith. "I like the decor!" 

Keith's perpetual scowl lightened to a small frown. "...thanks," he muttered softly, his dark purple-grey eyes never leaving Shiro's prone form. For a few minutes, Lance and Hunk inspected the house while Keith sat next to his brother. Pidge tapped away at her laptop, ignoring the heavy tension that hung thick in the air. Every so often, Hunk would complement the shack or Lance would mess around with some of the objects on the shelving, to which Keith would not respond.

To say things were awkward was an understatement. 

_"Galra!"_

Pidge, who was engrossed in her laptop not a minute before, yelled suddenly, cutting Keith off. "The number plate! It was registered under _Galra Logistics Corp_." she explained frantically. Shiro's expression darkened at the mention of the company.

Galra Logistics. The name rang a bell in Lance's mind. He could almost picture the bright purple logo embellished on a flight simulator at the Garrison. 

“Wait a minute,” Hunk said, his face pinched in a thoughtful expression “the same Galra Logistics that makes the flight simulators and like _everything_ at the Garrison? That Galra?”

Pidge nodded. The brightness of her monitor reflected on her glasses, making her look eerie in the muted desert shack light. “Yeah, and unofficial weapons designer. Pick up any old gun on this side of the continent and you bet Galra had a hand in making them.”

“Woah,” Hunk breathed in awe, “that’s crazy,”

An annoyed scoff sounded from behind them. "Who cares who they are, all that matters is why they're chasing us!" Keith spat out in frustration. 

Silence descended on the group. _Who knew why some random tech company were hunting down a bunch of kids?_

"It's me. Galra Logistics is chasing after me." 

Everyone turned to look at Shiro in varying stages of shock. Obviously, Lance wasn't getting the full picture; what the hell would they want with Shiro? When no one said anything, the man looked down at his feet and sighed painfully.

"I can't remember why or how but they gave me this-" Shiro raised his prosthetic arm. Before, the car was too dark for Lance to get a good look at Shiro's metal arm but in the artificial light of Keith's shack, he could finally see the dark pallor twisted with shocks of purple light twisted within the prosthetic. "I think they want it back."

His statement left so many questions unanswered. How did he lose his arm? Why did he (presumably) leave Galra Logistics? How did he and Keith end up in the junkyard? Why didn't he remember?

"Okay everyone, I think we need to start this from the top." Lance said, turning to Shiro. "So you've been missing for a year. Do you remember anything?"

Shiro shook his head. "Everything's... hazy. All I remember is a plane crash and then I'm in the backseat of Keith's car." 

“Amnesia,” Lance whispered soberly. “This day just keeps getting weirder and weirder.”

"No kidding! A year of your life is erased from your memory and then you show up right next to a super-weapon?" Hunk cut into the conversation, his brows furrowed in thought. "No offence, but even without the prosthetic and scars, this all seems very suspicious."

Keith scoffed. "You're the one to talk. You just randomly come across us? Seems very suspicious." The boy mocked Hunk's tone, his voice all bite and little bark. 

"Hunk has a point. The fact that you can't see it proves that." Joining the argument, Pidge stood strong next to her friend. No way would she back down now. "For all we know, you and Shiro could be criminals on the run."

"Care to repeat that?" Biting back, Keith all but snarled at the shorter girl. 

Lance was not in the mood to pick a fight (that was a lie, he was totally in the mood for a fight) but something about Keith’s tone rubbed him the wrong way. _No one_ messed with his friends without him getting involved.

“You heard her, dropout. Why should we trust _you_ of all people, huh?” 

The way Keith’s head snapped around to face Lance looked almost predatory. Instinctively, Lance took a step forward and faced the other boy head-on, squaring his shoulders as if he was expecting an attack.

“Did I ask? You’re the reason we even got chased!” Keith’s shouts bounced off of the shack’s walls. “You just had to go and mess around with weird technology.”

Taking a step forward, Lance gripped the handle of the bayard tighter. His knuckles turned white at the pressure. “Say that again, mullet, I dare you.” Hunk might have said something but both boys ignored his pleas for them to stop fighting.

“Why are you even here?! Go back to the Garrison, _cargo pilot_.” 

Like boiling water, anger surged through Lance’s veins at an intensity he’d never felt himself experience. Keith always knew how to push his buttons, and that ‘cargo pilot’ comment absolutely maddened him. “Oh, yeah? Maybe I will. They’d love to hear all about you - there’s probably a sweet reward on your greasy head.”

That was the tipping point for Keith. He sprung forwards, arms outstretched in a violent swinging motion. Lance didn’t hesitate - he brought the bayard up and pointed it straight at his former classmate, the motion feeling natural as if he’d done it a million times before. Somehow without Lance pressing a button or doing _anything_ , the bayard had transformed back into the sleek cyan blaster once again. Yet before the two could escalate their verbal argument into something more physical, Hunk grabbed Keith and pulled him back. The smaller boy struggled in Hunk’s powerful grips for a long pause, then relaxed, probably realizing that there was no getting out of it.

As quickly as the scalding anger appeared, the burn left Lance’s body, leaving only cold fury behind. His blue eyes widened as the weight of his actions came crashing down. _He'd just pulled a gun on someone…_

The bayard dissolved in a burst of blue light back into its dormant state. Lance soon realised that everyone was staring at the device in his hands; Pidge and Hunk with wary curiosity, and Keith with hollow fear. The shack felt claustrophobic.

"When you guys are done, come get me. I'll be outside." 

Before he could hear anyone else out, Lance marched outside, taking the bayard with him. He walked a couple of meters from the house, wanting to distance himself from whatever they were fighting about now. The moon hung lazily in the sky, a perfect full circle of light illuminating the barren desert around him. _God_ , it was late. It must have been maybe two, three in the morning? Lance didn't make a habit of wearing a watch, so that was really just a rough estimate. Adrenaline seeped out of his body and a sudden wave of tiredness washed over him, weighing down his muscles and eyelids. In his hand, the bayard seemed a lot heavier.

Lance took a moment to examine the weapon he picked up at the junkyard. It didn't _seem_ all that dangerous, though it certainly looked expensive. He couldn't have told you what metal the bayard was made out of, nor how it managed to transform into a gun. Though, Lance had to admit that the bayard looked _seriously cool_.

_I wonder what other secrets this thing holds,_ Lance thought. He raised the curved piece of metal to his face, staring at the shining cerulean highlights. For a few seconds, nothing happened. And then, the bayard _moved_.

It was subtle, only a small twitch to the right. But the thing _moved_ on its own. Eyes widening, Lance placed the bayard on his outstretched palm. Ever so subtle, it slowly rotated in his hands, pointing out towards what seemed like nothing.

Lance blinked once, twice, three times. There was _no way_ this thing should be moving on its own; it wasn't even pointing directly north! A lightbulb suddenly clicked on in his head. To test out his theory, Lance pivoted 180 degrees, still holding the bayard out on his open palm. Nothing happened for a brief moment, once again rotating to point directly in the position it was in before.

_Holy crow._

Storming back into the shack, Lance opened the door with a large slam. 

"Uh, guys," He yelled, gaining everyone’s attention. Whatever they were talking about didn't matter - the only thing that did was the weird super-weapon in his hand. “Y’know the thing I found? It’s acting weird!”

The shack went dead silent. Then before he knew it, the voices of both Hunk, Pidge and Keith all yelled at once.

"What do you mean?!" Keith's voice thundered over the other two. Lance looked at the pale boy, then held out the bayard for them to see. 

"This thing, it's like a compass! Every time it's placed on a flat surface, it points somewhere. I think it’s trying to tell us to go somewhere."

Lance's statement was met with varying degrees of doubt. Keith snorted, crossing his arms in a disbelieving fashion, while Pidge raised her eyebrows quizzically. 

"And how does this _thing_ move?" Pidge said, looking at Lance in obvious disbelief. In response, Lance shrugged, flattening his palm to show her. 

"Look," the bayard started turning slowly on his palm, "it always points the same way. It might be telling us something. I think we should follow it?" 

No one had anything to say. Long pauses of silence rung harshly in Lance's ears and for a moment, he felt dumb for even considering such an outlandish action. He prepared himself for the relentless teasing that would surely come out of this suggestion. 

"So we'll be getting directions off a gun which is also a compass. Sure, whatever. Why not? A lot crazier things have happened tonight." 

Lance gaped at Keith, still unsure that it was actually him speaking. Keith agreeing with him? That didn't sound right. Yet here he was, backing up Lance's rather ridiculous plan. Soon enough, Pidge emitted a noncommittal grunt.

"It's not like we have anywhere better to go. I give it a day before Galra finds this place. Less, probably. What do we have to lose?" Hunk nodded in agreement. 

The only person who still didn't say anything was Shiro. All four teenagers looked expectantly at him. His lips thinned in indecisiveness. 

"I... don't know. We need to get as far away from Galra Logistics as possible."

Lance tried to ignore the pained tone in his voice. "Then it's settled," he grinned at everyone, "we'll follow the bayard and see where it takes us."

“Bayard?” Keith questioned.

“Yeah, it, um, kinda might have told me what it was called?”

Everyone nodded in agreement. Too many weird things had happened to them that day to find that statement particularly shocking.

"Should we head off now, or wait until sunrise?" Hunk asked no one in particular "I wouldn't mind catching up on a few z's."

"Now. We leave now." Keith gruffly replied. "Pidge said that we'll be tracked, so the sooner we can get somewhere safer, the better."

Safe. Not being safe seemed so foreign to Lance. Sure, he didn't live in a great area and, _yeah_ , he did _occasionally_ do something _possibly_ illegal, but never in his life had he shot down two cars that were attempting to breach his safety with a magical, physics-defying gun. He tried to not think about the reality of the situation. That was too much.

"If we're leaving now, I'm driving!" Lance said in his normal, exuberant voice. 

Keith scoffed. "No way, the car's mine. _I'm driving."_

"Yeah, but _I_ have the bayard. It'll be easier for me to drive, and I don't think any of us want to almost die again."

Keith opened his mouth to say something in retaliation but was cut off by a metallic hand being placed on his shoulder. The boy closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then looked from Shiro to Lance.

"Seriously, Mullet, trust me."

Keith started intensely at him for a long moment, before groaning. "If you scratch my car I _will_ kill you." 

"Oh, I don't doubt that."

"Fine," He relented, "but _I'm_ shotgun."

Lance let out a whoop of excitement as he pumped his fist in the air. "Let's do this, people!" 

-

Driving Keith's car was surprisingly similar to driving his mother's old minivan - which was certainly not a good thing, to say the least. Both cars were heavy as fuck, drove manual instead of automatic, and were older than most fossils. But hey, it was still fun to drive.

The bayard was placed on the mantle, right above the steering wheel. When it turned to one side, Lance would try and follow the streets best matching the direction he was supposed to travel in. It was a finicky way to drive but hey, it worked. They weaved in and out of streets, being careful not to go past any densely packed areas lest surveillance cameras pick up on their location. Luckily, the bayard seemed to be directing them away from the richer, more populous inner-city of Terra, and towards the outer suburbs in the north. 

Since Terra was situated smack-bang right in the middle of the desert, it was surrounded by a large, twenty-foot-high wall. Everything in the city, even the airport, was inside of the wall’s boundaries. Lance could only speculate what was outside - tumbleweeds maybe.

The car ride was quiet, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Every time Lance tried to fiddle with the radio, either Keith or Pidge would yell at him to turn it off or change the channel; their tastes obviously weren't as refined as his. Eventually, Lance settled on a station that played solely classical music, just to spite the others. After about half an hour of weaving in and out of back alleys and deserted shanty streets, they were nearing the edge of the city, yet the bayard still pointed outside the city limits.

“Hey, guys?”

Lance pressed down on the brake, stopping the junkbox of a vehicle facing directly towards the outer wall.

“What’s wrong? Why’d we stop?!” Keith asked, looking accusatory at Lance.

“Look at the bayard.”

Everyone in the car gazed over the driver's seat at the steel weapon. The tail end of it was aimed right at the brick wall. Lance poked a finger at the side of the weapon, pushing it a few centimetres to the side, and pursed his lips when it immediately snapped back to face the wall again.

Another cool, familiar sensation trickled up his spine, Lance shivering at the frigid icicles that prickled against his skin.

“I know this is crazy, but I think the bayard wants me to go this way.”

Right away, the car erupted into noises of protest. Keith’s voice stood out among everyone else’s shouts.

  
  
"No. _Fucking_. Way." Keith snarled, like actually _snarled_ at Lance. "There is no way you are driving us all head-first into a brick wall." 

Lance scoffed, taking one hand off the steering wheel to point at his bayard. "That's where it's telling me to go! There's nowhere else we can drive!"

Without listening to anyone else, Lance took his foot off the brake and slammed it down on the accelerator. The tired shrieked as the car shot forward.

"Hell no, I'm not letting you kill me!" Faster than lightning, Keith lunged out of the passenger seat and gripped onto the steering wheel, trying to turn it the other way.

"Let go!" Lance yelled in surprise. 

Keith yanked harder on the steering wheel. "Stop the car!"

The two teenagers went back and forth for a few seconds; with each pull, the car swerved from side to side. His patience finally letting up, Lance pressed down as hard as he could on the accelerator, sending all the occupants of the car flying back into their seats - Keith included. The brick wall edged nearer and nearer and the car flew at an insanely fast pace. Lance didn't bother looking at the speedometer; he was sure the car was going way above the speed limit. 

Truthfully, Lance had no idea why he was even trying the bayard in the first place. There was just _something_ about it that spoke to him, somehow telling him mutely that it was the right thing to do. Was he going crazy? Probably. 

"We're all going to die!" Hunk screeched. 

The passengers gripped whatever they could as the car was suddenly ten, seven, five, three meters away from the wall. Lance's heart hammered against his chest as the car was barely a meter away from crashing. He closed his eyes.

...

_Nothing_. 

Absolutely nothing happened. Lance frantically opened his eyes, gripping the steering wheel tightly as the car swerved slightly. A small gasp of shock echoed through his mouth as Lance realised that he did not in fact crash horribly into a brick wall, but instead entered some kind of... underground tunnel? 

"Did we die? Are we in some sort of creepy purgatory?" Hunk's scared voice sounded from the back seat.

"Doesn't look like it, unfortunately." Lance snorted at Pidge's words. Damn, that girl had a weird sense of humour. "Though I have no idea what just happened. Kinda closed my eyes before we were about to crash."

Keith hummed in agreement. "Same here. I thought _someone_ " he shot a pointed glare at Lance "was going to kill us."

Lance grinned, looking at Keith out of his peripheral vision (keep your eyes on the road, kids). "But I _didn't~_ ," he said in a singsong voice. Keith scoffed. 

"Well-"

"The wall dropped. Somehow." Shiro's authoritative voice cut into their budding argument. "Whoever made that _thing_ " he gestured to the bayard "obviously wanted someone else to seek out wherever we're going." 

Pidge wolf-whistled. "Sounds unlikely."

The older man raised an eyebrow but said nothing further.

"Where d'you think the tunnel will take us?" Pidge asked to no one in particular. 

Lance shrugged, but Shiro was the one to answer. "We'll have to wait and see."

Shaken by the near-death experience, the car's passengers grew quiet as they travelled through the darkened passageway. Every so often, a fluorescent blue light jutted from the ceiling, offering just enough light to navigate safely yet not enough to see the end. The bayard was still perched on the dashboard, pointed dead ahead. 

No longer driving at break-neck speeds, Lance felt his heartbeat slow down as the rhythmic thumps in his chest grew quieter and quieter. With all the adrenaline spent over the past few hours, the boy finally felt tendrils of tiredness creep up his bones and grip at his muscles. How long had he been awake for, now? Twenty, twenty-four hours? There were no windows or really any natural light in the tunnel, so there was no way to tell. Hopefully it wasn't dawn yet, so he could still get back home in time for his family waking up.

Actually, scratch that. He had a physics test tomorrow. He could afford to miss a day of school.

Glancing back down at the dashboard, Lance saw the mechanisms point towards the faster section of the speedometer. Considering they had been driving in the tunnel for quite a while, they should be way out of the city by now. There was no way he was getting back in time for that physics test. 

"Hey guys, do you see that?" Called Hunk from the backseat. Sure enough, warm rivulets of light bled into the artificial blue.

"I think we're at the end," Pidge whispered back. 

The bright light grew closer and closer until the car drove up a slope and into the natural light. Lance had to squint his eyes, the stark transition between the darkness of the tunnel and sunlight too bright for his irises. Soon enough, the car emerged from the darkness, and the group were greeted by a shocking sight.

"What the..." Pidge breathed out in awe. Lance agreed wholeheartedly at the girl's words. All around them were emerald green, grassy fields complete with trimmed edges in various shapes and sizes. A well-kept gravel road swerved in and out of the most beautiful gardens Lance had ever seen. A large pond, no, lake reflected the dawn's light, casting beautiful shimmers across its waters to the left of the car. Large cherry blossoms stood tall in the fields, their shadows looming against the grass. 

Lance was absolutely gobsmacked. There was no way to describe this place. It was paradise. 

Slowing down the car, Lance studied the landscape in front of him. It seemed so different from the dusty and sepia-toned vegetation ingrained into Terra life, yet surely this place was not too far from the city. Yet no one could see any traces of Terra and its neon haze over the horizon. 

"What is this place?" Keith asked breathily. 

"I have no idea. It's... _beautiful."_ Shiro replied.

Beautiful was an understatement, really. The luscious gardens that surrounded them were absolutely _gorgeous_ ; something you'd only expect to see out of movies. In the back seat, Pidge and Hunk clamoured towards the left window, peering out at the distance. The Bayard still pointed in the direction of the road. 

After driving for a few minutes past the most aesthetically alluring landscapes Lance had ever seen in his life, a large white building peeked through twenty-foot-tall hedge walls. As the car grew closer and closer so did the house, and oh boy was calling it a house an understatement.

The gravel road led to a sight even grander than the sprawling gardens or idyllic ponds. In front of the car stood a brilliantly white mansion, inlaid with greys and blues that shone in the sunlight. The mansion was graced with architectural curves, darkened windows, and more storeys than Lance could count. It was truly a palace. 

"We're sure not in Kansas anymore."

Everyone in the car groaned at Lance's reference. He drove the car past a marble fountain depicting numerous lions clawing at a sphere ( _"That's so metal."_ Keith had muttered once they passed it), parking the steel junkbox right next to the front door. Lance switched off the engine, turning his torso to face the back seat.

"This is where the bayard is leading us to. Should we go in?"

Both Hunk and Pidge shrugged. "It doesn't look like any Galra facilities, I don't think?" The mousy-haired girl said, glancing back and forth between Lance and the mansion.

"Looks like a sci-fi writer's wet dream." Keith snorted from beside Lance, to which Lance nodded in agreement.

"Shiro, you're the adult here. What do you say?" Lance looked at the older man expectantly. 

Shiro furrowed his eyebrows, the shock of white in his otherwise black bangs covering most of his forehead. He looked... older. Or, well, older than Lance had ever seen him.

"Let's go inside and investigate. This doesn't seem like a Galra Logistics owned area."

Humming in agreement, Lance turned back and pulled the car keys out of the ignition, chucking them at Keith. 

"Think fast!"

Keith barely had enough time to widen his eyes before the set of keys hit him right in the middle of his forehead. Lance didn't stay long enough to see the boy's enraged expression, instead opting to rush out of the car as fast as possible, grabbing the bayard in the process. Slamming the door in Keith's face, he looked back down at the bayard, frowning. 

He couldn't really describe it, but Lance felt a tugging sensation through his fingers as if the weapon was being attracted somewhere. With each step closer, the intensity of it grew and grew until he had walked all the way over to the front door without even realising. He was close, Lance realised. 

The others made a hasty pace towards Lance, all looking over his shoulders and at the device in his hands. Pidge, Hunk and Shiro all seemed curious, while Keith just looked angry that Lance threw keys in his face a minute ago. 

"This is it, guys." He hoped the others didn't hear the slight waver in his voice. "I think this is the place we're supposed to go to."

Everyone congregated around the large white-metal door behind Lance, all looking expectantly at the bayard in his hands. Sure enough, it pointed straight into the room. Yet no one moved.

"Are we... supposed to go in?" Keith wandered to Lance's side and placed a hand on the door. It didn't open.

Lance stared at the boy, then focused back onto the closed-off area. "Maybe you just have to knock?"

He brought his knuckles up to the door, rapping his knuckles against the dense metal. Almost instantly, the whole barrier slid up into the ceiling. Lance stepped through the door and looked around the darkened room.

It was mostly bare, save for five large, raised columns of milky-white glass that concealed whatever was inside. Below each column was a small box-like panel with an oddly shaped slit in the centre. As soon as Lance took a single step, bright white lights illuminated every corner and crevice, and the opaque glass grew transpired, revealing what they held.

Suspended within the columns, no, _chambers_ , were five mecha-looking suits, each highlighted by colourful lights. Ignoring most of the weird suits, Lance stared intensely at the middle chamber. Hidden within the glass was a suit of beautiful cerulean and azures, alabaster and graphite; seemingly colour-coded with the bayard held ever so tightly in Lance's hand. Even the metals of his bayard seemed to be the same displayed inside the chamber.

Just like when Lance found the weapon - and was drawn to it in a mindless haze - he found himself creeping forwards towards the blue armour, the other's talk of their surroundings muffled by the ocean's roar that reverberated in his ears. Soon enough he stood right next to the panel below the suit. 

"What's this hole supposed to be?" Keith murmured from beside him, startling Lance out of his trance. 

"Holy crow dude, say something before you sneak up on someone!" 

Keith stared at Lance with an unimpressed frown, then gestured towards the panel.

Lance shrugged. _Eh, it's worth a try._

Plunging the bayard into the panel, Lance watched the chamber in anticipation. But nothing happened. Confused, he gripped the bayard's handle and twisted it like a key. Almost immediately, a humming noise rang out from the panel.

Looking into the chamber, Lance could only watch in horror as the suit disintegrated before Lance's eyes, the metal and lights melting into the bottom of the chamber. A cord connecting the chamber to the bayard started glowing and soon enough, the bayard illuminated, its cerulean highlights brightening to an ethereal glow. He could feel his face warm from the echoed light.

Absolutely mesmerised by the display, Lance grabbed the hilt of the bayard and lifted it out of the slit. Immediately, fabric and metal materialised around his hand, travelling up his arm and spreading around his body. Lance gasped as tendrils of _magic_ crawled up his spine and circled around and around his torso. Dark, lightweight chainlinks melded themselves together across his skin, enveloping the boy with a skintight sensation of warmth. As he opened his eyes (he didn't realise he'd even closed them), Lance saw the room dancing in angles and calculations through a medium yellow visor. 

In the back of his mind, a lion _roared_. 

Taking a step back, Keith looked up at Lance, an expression of shock etched on his face. The pale boy's mouth hung open, no sound was released but wordless gasps. 

He turned back towards the glass chambers, and finally saw a reflection of himself in the chamber glass. 

Covering himself like a second skin, a light, skintight bodysuit spanned the entirety of his body save for his face. Blue and grey armour concentrated on his thighs, chest, and particularly his legs contrasted harshly with the ruby red _'V'_ insignia etched into the cuirass. 

_I have a freaking tail_ , Lance realised as he studied the long, metal rope hanging between his legs from his back. Not just a tail, but _wicked_ sharp metal claws and small lion ears on top of a blue and grey helmet. Neon cerulean lights glowed in the crevices of the suit, the brightness concentrated mostly on the sides of his visor. 

"What the..." Raising his hands, Lance studied the suit of armour that _magically_ dressed itself on him. "Am I dreaming? Yup, I'm definitely dreaming. Someone pinch me." His voice was an octave too high, betraying the absolute confusion he felt. 

"You..." Pidge's voice called from behind him, and Lance snapped back around to look at her. At first, he thought he heard fear laced within her voice, until, "...look like a fucking _catgirl_." The short girl started laughing uncontrollably, her almond-brown eyes filled with mirth. 

"I- I do _not!"_ Lance sputtered.

"Look! You have lil' ears! Oh my god-" Hunk gasped, running towards Lance and assessing him from behind, "you have a tail! You're a furry! A mecha-furry!"

Lance tried to refute his statement but found himself stammering over what to say. "I'm not a furry! This is slander."

"Fascinating..." Pidge edged closer to him, studying the suit with great interest. "It seems to be nanotech, though I've never seen something this advanced. Whoever built this, they're leagues ahead of anyone else in the business."

"I have so many questions." Keith butted in. “Namely, why did you go through a _magical transformation sequence_?"

Lance shrugged. 

When he was younger, he and Rachel would watch cartoons every Saturday morning on their grainy little television. Now, Lance felt like he was one of the protagonists from those shows having gone through an experience similar to a magical girl transformation. He laughed softly, reminiscing on old memories before he moved to Terra. 

From the corner of his eye, he could see Keith inch forward, outstretching a pale hand and trying to touch the moving (or wagging, almost) tail of Lance’s mecha-suit. Moving out of the way to avoid Keith’s grubby hands all over the sleek metal of his suit, he let out a small squeak of surprise as he jumped back at an inhumane speed. One moment, he was standing next to Pidge, Hunk and Keith, and the next he was suddenly halfway across the room. Four pairs of eyes instantly stared at his display of speed; Hunk and Pidge looked absolutely shocked at his action.

“What.. how…” Pidge’s eyes widened as if all her dreams had just come true. “You were there… and now…”

Lance felt a grin light up his face. “I have _superpowers.”_ He said, his voice breathless. “Quick, Mullet, throw something at me!”

Keith scowled at the nickname, but in no time at all reached into his pocket and hurled his car keys at Lance’s face, no doubtedly getting revenge from before. 

Instinctively, Lance flexed his hands and in one swift motion, claws at the keys mid-air. The keys, now fragmented metal shards of segmented technology, clattered to the ground. Lance gaped at his hand; the metal claws on his hands had elongated, lengthening just enough to slice up the keys fully. He hadn’t meant to do that. 

“Dude, _what the hell_. You just destroyed my keys!”

A sheepish grin spread across Lance’s face. “Oops?” He said, rubbing the back of his neck guiltily.

Fury spreading across his face, Keith marched towards him with an expression Lance often saw on his neighbour's semi-rabid bull terrier. 

Lance waited until the boy was about a half a meter away from him, before quickly sidestepping away. The suit’s weird augmentations allowed him to move faster than he ever could unaided; every time Keith would lunge at him, Lance would instantly dart away at a speed Keith could never catch. He grinned at the shorter boy, revelling in the way Keith for once in his life struggled to do something Lance could. 

Lance’s joy was short-lived, however, as Keith rounded him with a determined expression, his eyes blazing in pure, _instinctual_ want. In a flash, yellow light shone from Keith’s hand, where an object ever-so-similar to his own bayard was gripped. Lance barely had time to react before the red version of his bayard transformed into something _more_ , and he was pushed to the ground as something red-plated and metallic lunged at him. 

“Get off of me!” Shrieking as his body hit the floor, Lance rebounded instantly into a crouch, swiping Keith off of him. His hit landed and Keith was sent flying in the other direction. Now that a few meters separated them, Lance saw that his rival wore a near-identical suit, though his lacked any blue, instead made entirely from varying shades of reds. Keith didn’t bother responding to him, rather a low growl of annoyance emitted from his visor.

Lance crouched down, his muscles bunching up ready to lunge in retaliation, but before he could a blue of yellow flashed in between them.

“Woah woah _woah_ ,” looking at the two boys in disappointment, Hunk waved his hands in an attempt to calm them down. “I need you guys to stop fighting before you kill each other!”

_“He started it!”_ Lance and Keith said at the same time. Lance shot a vexed scowl at Keith, to which he responded with an equally irate glare. 

Hunk sighed. “Series guys, why don’t we just stay calm, tone down the murderous violence and- _what?!”_ Shooting two octaves higher, Hunk’s voice basically squeaked as the same almost instantaneous transformation that happened to Keith suddenly began on him. In a flash, further yellow light - this time more of canary hue - glowed around his hand before a familiar set of leonine armour appeared on his body (unsurprisingly in the same light yellow palette).

“Oh god,” Hunk whispered, staring at his arms up and down. “now _I’m_ the mecha-furry.”

Whether it was planned or not, his statement broke the tension of Keith and Lance’s fight. Both broke out into equally amused laughter. _Who knew furries would be so funny?_ Lance flashed him a million-watt smile.

“Welcome to the club, buddy!”

Holding his hand up for a high five, he grinned as Hunk returned it with equal vigour. The force of it almost sent Lance stepping back a few feet. 

_Woof, someone’s strong today._

_“Amazing,”_ Pidge breathed out, her voice tinged with curiosity. Without any care in the world, she sauntered over to the two boys, seemingly not caring that their fight may cause her physical harm. For as long as Lance had known the short girl, her inquisitive personality always overrode her self-preservation. He snorted as she tapped the plating on his thighs a couple times, then blushed as her hand travelled up, following the suit’s mechanisms. “Somehow the bayards are triggering some sort of remote transformation. It’s so…”

She trailed off. Bright lights from both Keith and Lance’s suits reflected on her glasses, hiding her eyes from sight. Opening her hands, Lance saw Pidge smile in triumph as another bayard, this time plated forest-green, materialised in her hands. 

_“...awesome.”_

Unlike everyone else, the cat armour didn’t immediately surface on her body. Pidge turned the bayard over in her hands, examining it like someone would examine a semi-precious gem. Only once she bobbed her head in approval did green metal form on her limbs, quickly covering her with the same feline-like suit. 

_“So,”_ Lance said, eyeing Pidge’s rather small set of armour, “Keith’s suit has super speed, mine has awesome reflexes, and Hunk’s somehow even stronger than usual if that’s possible,” Hunk blushed at his praise “so what’s your cute little power, Pidgey?”

His teasing was meant to be lighthearted, but the way her eyes lit up in some sort of ferocious glee did Lance realise that he fucked up. 

Before his eyes, Pidge, along with the cat armour, vanished into thin air. Lance barely had time to question her sudden disappearing act or the vibrations on the ground that grew closer and closer, before something hit his cuirass, launching him _again_ into the air and crashing down onto a large glass box with black metal inlay. A fall that would have normally ended up with him having numerous broken bones barely damaged him. 

_“Cute little power_ , you say?” Pidge reappeared, smiling smugger than he had ever seen her before. Keith, Hunk and Shiro all were laughing with her, and Lance couldn’t help but join in with them, until a shark crack pierced through the air.

Lance could feel the glass quiver from beneath him.

“Uh oh.”

With one final shudder, the box shattered from underneath him, sending him and the contents crashing to the floor. The cat armour managed to shield him from the damage but unfortunately didn’t stop an object from tumbling out of the now broken box. Lance couldn’t help but grin guiltily as he sat amongst the splintered glass and assorted fragments of metals littered around him. 

“Way to go, _idiot_.” Pidge snapped at him, eyeing the rubble with disdain. 

“Hey! It was your fault it broke!” 

_“How?!”_

Before their fight could escalate, Shiro jumped between them, blocking off Pidge from Lance’s sight. The older man held both arms up, palms facing outwards to diffuse the situation. 

“Okay everyone, calm down.” He said, his voice equal parts authoritarian and gentle. Shiro took a step forward and offered his prosthetic hand to Lance, to which he grabbed enthusiastically and pulled himself up. Shiro took a deep breath and looked around the room, addressing everyone. “We need to find out what exactly these _things_ are and who’s in charge of them. They can tell us why we’re here.”

Everyone seemed to agree with his statement. Lance nodded, at Shiro’s words, finding comfort in them. Having some semblance of a plan helped to calm down the tensions in the room, especially between him and Keith. He no longer wanted to rile Keith up (as much). 

“Patience yields focus. We’ll all get through this, together.”

The moment the words left Shiro’s lips, something illuminated from the rubble underneath. Taking a cautious step back, Lance watched as Shiro bent down to the mound of debris, and pulled out-

_It couldn’t be._

Yet, now rested in Shiro’s hand, was a sleekly shaped object that looked suspiciously similar to Lance’s bayard, yet had jet black highlights instead of his own cerulean blue. The teal accents on Lance’s bayard weren't present there, instead pure white glowed from sections of brightness. 

Lance watched as blinding white light shone from the black bayard, illuminating Shiro’s face. Visions shot through his mind all in quick succession; five coloured lions, powers beyond imagination, bright yellow liquid, the metal sparks from the lion suits. Everyone as one; melded as a singular unit. The air was knocked out of Lance’s lungs and the final image, one of him and the other four in similar suits of claws and steel, left his mind with a fleeting sensation of _wonder._

Yet as quickly as it started the light died down, leaving Lance and everyone else breathless. For a few long moments, they all stood in the room, stunned by the visions that the black bayard presumably showed them. Lance couldn’t find the energy to speak. Silence descended on the room, thick enough to cut with a knife (or the claws on his suit). 

_“Impossible...”_

Lance whipped his head around to spot a tall, lithe figure in the doorway. Accentuated by the soft white light behind her, the figure seemed ethereal; otherworldly. Her long, billowing white hair stood in stark contrast against her warm skin - a soft brown tone even darker than Lance or Hunk's. The way she held her back straight and shoulders poised, the figure had a graceful, authoritative aura surrounding them.

The woman stepped into the room, sauntering elegantly past everyone until she stood face-to-face with Lance. At that moment Lance realised two things: this chick had absolutely gorgeous ice-blue eyes, and that she looked absolutely terrifying. 

"Where did you find the bayards? Did you steal them?!" Her heavily accented voice ( _British, maybe?_ ) was furious, and her face reflected it. Her rage was directed at the nearest person to her, which, unfortunately, in this case, was Lance.

"What? No!" Lance yelped, taking a step back in a bid to avoid the woman. "We didn't steal them! We just... found them?" As he said that, glass shards from the broken box crunched underneath his feet. 

The woman growled and in one swift motion, wrapped her legs around the back of Lance's knees, kicking them with a scary amount of force. Lance crumpled to the ground, his newly found armour unfortunately not protecting the back of his legs. 

_"Liar!"_ she yelled, "Who do you work for? Did Zarkon send you?" 

Lance stammered, unsure what to say. Before he could answer, Shiro slid between the two, holding up his palms to the girl in a passive peace gesture. Lance realised with a jolt that Shiro too was wearing a suit incredibly similar to his own, yet the colour scheme was completely different. Where the gorgeous blues and fiery reds painted his armour, Shiro’s was completely greyscaled, save for the yellow of his visor and large, red-and-black wings on the back of the suit that Lance _certainly_ did not have. In such a grand set of armour, Shiro truly looked like a leader. The woman seemed to survey his suit with great interest but still channelled her ire towards Lance. "Please forgive us for intruding, Miss..."

_"Altea_. Allura Altea," she answered pridefully, yet still seemed angry. 

"Sorry, Allura. I can assure you we did not steal anything, nor were we sent by someone."

"How did you even find this house? Officially, this residence doesn't even _exist_." Allura sounded too accusatory for Lance's liking. He didn't do anything wrong, for once!

"We followed this bayard, and it led us here," Lance said in the most innocent tone he could muster, holding the blue bayard up to show her. To his relief, Shiro confirmed his words with a short nod.

Allura looked taken aback. 

  
  
"You... found the bayard? How-" she said barely above a whisper, her voice hitching in her throat. "where did you find it?" Looking at Allura at that moment, Lance saw someone _scared,_ rather than the regal warrior who screamed at him moments prior. 

"In a junkyard, area code 4.1.14.7.5.18. It was just, well, there."

Nodding slowly, the white-haired woman sighed deeply and muttered something under her breath. An indescribable emotion was etched on her face, one that Lance simply couldn't place. It almost looked like... resignation? 

Stepping past Shiro and offering her hand out to Lance, the woman smiled softly at the lanky boy. "I'm incredibly sorry for my accusations, please forgive me. I am Allura Altea; my father made the weapon you hold and the suits you all wear."

Grabbing the dark-skinned hand, Lance pulled himself up from the ground. 

"Wait a second,” Lance said, brows furrowed in thought. “Altea, as in Allura Altea? The sole child of Alfor Altea?”

Lance vaguely knew the name. Alfor Altea, philanthropist and owner of Altea Industries, some swanky independent research facility on the outskirts of Terra. Ten months ago, he was found dead - presumed to be a suicide - in his mansion.

“The same,” Allura confirmed, though Lance does not miss a flash of pain across her eyes. “and it seems the Blue Lion has decided that you five are the new Paladins of Voltron, Defenders of the Terra-sphere.”

_Paladins?!_

**Author's Note:**

> YEET.
> 
> This series probably isn't over! In my mind, I've planned for a few more fics in this universe, following a cohesive and set plot line (such as an arc involving Lotor), though whether I actually write them is up to my motivation, readership, and general want for more. 
> 
> Originally I was going to write more but like, eh. This ended up being a lot longer than I thought it would be so most of the major info dumping was removed. 
> 
> Okay, now down to the boring stuff. Some things weren't made very clear by this fic, so I'd like to clear a few things up about the worldbuilding. Feel free to skip over this part of the notes.  
>  **Altea Industries:** Independent research facility primarily focused on creating new technologies and combating problems that don’t exist yet (think CRAFT from Limitless). The founder, Alfor Altea, was found dead - presumed suicide - in his home.  
>  **Garrison:** Flight school, but used as a pre-courser for other jobs (military, commercial). Notoriously elite and expensive to get into. Trains the next generations of military and light personnel.  
>  **Terra:** a megacity on in unspecified location, inferred to be in the Northern American continent. Primarily high-rises and classic futuristic neon elements, the city lacks rich suburbs but has poorer parts to it. Located in the desert, and is surrounded by a wall. Think half cyberpunk aesthetic, half 21st century aesthetic.  
>  **Galra Logistics Corp:** Independent manufacturing facility primarily focused on distributing technology. Officially, they supply places like the Garrison with flight sims, communication devices, etc., but unofficially they're a major weapons supplier. 
> 
> And a few more facts about the lion suits:  
>  **Blue:** enhances reflexes (agility) and jump height. Ice capabilities from tail (like in canon)  
>  **Black:** a suit with small, red wings that has the capacity to fly. Also has the highest durability.  
>  **Red:** enhances speed, but not reflexes. Fire capabilities from tail (like in canon).  
>  **Yellow:** enhances strength exponentially (earth abilities comes from smashing things like in canon)  
>  **Green:** has the ability to turn invisible, and enhances neurotransmitter speed.
> 
> If you liked this fic, please leave a comment and kudos. It really means a lot to me to hear from all of y'all. Feel free to also check me out on Check me out on [my Tumblr,](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ashkazora) where I post a lot of vld content.
> 
> Anyways, thank you so much for reading!


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